


Salt and Watermelon

by pan_ismyhomeboy



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Food Kink, M/M, Oblivious!Will, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 02:18:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pan_ismyhomeboy/pseuds/pan_ismyhomeboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is a messy eater; Hannibal appreciates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salt and Watermelon

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by the Hannibal kinkmeme over on Dreamwidth.

"Salt? On watermelon?"

"Don't knock it if you haven't tried it."

Hannibal raises an eyebrow, an action that manages to convey that he'll do all the knocking he wants, thank you very much, and what are you doing to that poor fruit, what did it ever do to you?

Hannibal can be expressive when he wants.

Will just laughs as he picks up the thick slice. "The salt helps bring out the sweetness," he explains, chomping down on the red flesh of the melon. He presses it between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, straining out the juices before he starts to chew. Pale reddish liquid begins to drip from his lips -- lips which only seem swollen from the salt, Hannibal has to remind himself, not because Will or anyone else has been biting them hard between teeth that are white and sharp and seeking blood.

Hannibal leans back, crosses his legs, and watches. "You ate this as a child?"

Will swallows and shamelessly wipes his mouth with the back of one hand. "Yeah, this is how we had it back home. Watermelon was always the best part of summer." He licks his lips, a strangely obscene gesture given Will's innocence of the exact nature of the other man's attentions. Will takes another bite, incisors piercing the pulpy flesh as his eyes close in pleasure. This time, a thick rivulet of juice runs down his chin and drips down the front of his throat. He huffs with annoyance and says, around a mouth of dripping fruit, "Got a napkin?"

As Hannibal reaches for his handkerchief, he thinks that he's killed people rude enough to speak with their mouth full, and he further thinks that he might just be able to make an exception in this instance. "Please," he says, leaning forward across the table. "Allow me."


End file.
